A/N: So, while I was stuck on A Path Unwalked, this idea sort of popped into my head when ssssmc asked in a review about the relationship between Hunith and Vivian. I might do a series of these, but I'm not sure. For now, this will remain a stand-alone sort-of prequel.

Prompts of suggestions are welcome, though.

She loved storms. It was a bit of an odd thing to say, but Hunith didn't care. Back in Ealdor, storms meant staying inside, huddling around a fire with your family and neighbours. It meant no work on the field, and telling stories, and laughing.

Here in this big castle it was different. Everyone went about their day as normal, nothing changed. Olaf, her husband – even after a year it was still strange to say that word – was busy in a council meeting, which left the new Queen with nothing much to do. Merlynn was playing in her cot, babbling nonsense like only a baby could, while Hunith stared outside. She'd sat down with some needlework – according to her ladies maid she needed to learn this to become a better queen, along with horseback riding, stitching, etiquette lessons… there was no end to it.

A lightning bolt lit up the sky and Merlynn laughed. Hunith kept a close eye on her, but her eyes remained blue. It had been such a shock when she'd walked into her room to find Merlynn floating her toys above her crib. Luckily, she'd snatched them out of the air before Olaf had walked in. As much as she trusted him, she didn't want to bet her daughter's life on it.

A sound from the hallway interrupted her musings. She frowned at the door for a moment. Had she imagined it? No, there it was again.

Another lightning bolt lit up the otherwise dark sky outside, and a small shriek came from the other side of the door. Hunith hurriedly put down her needlework and went to open the door.

At first glance, the hallway was empty, but then she noticed a little girl cowering by the door frame.

"Vivian?" Hunith breathed, crouching down. "What's wrong, little one?" she asked kindly. The girl was wearing her night dress as it was close to her bedtime, and no shoes.

The girl just hugged her knees closer and sobbed. A flash of light came seconds before the thunder struck and Vivian shrieked again. Then she understood. "Oh, my sweet child, are you afraid of the thunder?" she asked, sitting down on the cold floor and putting an arm around the girl.

Before Vivian could answer, a maid came running down the hall. "There you are, you naughty child!" she called. Her angry tone only made Vivian shrink deeper into herself. "Running away like that is not fit behaviour for a princess!"

It was rude of the maid not to address Hunith first, or show her the proper courtesy by bowing or in any way acknowledging, but Hunith didn't much care for ceremony like this. But just this once… "I'll keep her with me, Morna," she said, picking Vivian up easily, as the girl was barely 3 years old. "After all, I am her mother now."

The reproach was subtle, but the maid picked up on it easily enough. She sank into a barely-deep-enough curtsy. "If you're sure."

Hunith noted the lack of 'your highness' or 'my lady' in that sentence, but decided not to push it. "I am. You're dismissed, Morna. I'll put the princess to bed. And I'd like you to report to my study in the morning."

The maid narrowed her beady eyes, but curtsied again and kept her mouth shut. Good choice. Hunith then repositioned Vivian on her hip and re-entered her room. Merlynn was still playing – non-magically – with her toys, not bothered by the foul weather at all, but Vivian… Vivian was shaking like a leaf.

"There now, sweetheart, there's nothing to be frightened of. It's just lightning. It cannot hurt you within these walls," she whispered, keeping the little girl clutched close.

Vivian muttered something, but Hunith couldn't make it out. "What was that?"

Vivian lifted her head, tear track obvious on her cheeks. "Are you my mommy now?"

The question took Hunith completely by surprise. When she'd told Morna that she was Vivian's mother now, she hadn't really thought about it, she'd just wanted to protect a little girl from a mean maid. "Oh sweetheart… Only if you want me to be." She didn't want to replace Olaf's first wife, but the previous Queen had died in childbirth. Vivian probably didn't even know what she looked like.

Sheepishly, the little girl nodded. The sight brought a smile to Hunith's face, and she hugged the girl to herself. "Then I'll be your mother," she whispered.

/*/

It was hours later when Olaf finally returned to his bedchamber. It had been a long day of convincing his council members that setting money aside to build a new bridge over the river. It would simplify travel for the merchants that came to trade in the city.

Needless to say, he looked forward to seeing his wife and getting a few hours of sleep. His room was lit by a single candle by the bed, where Hunith was reading a book. Olaf smiled at her and then went to Merlynn's crib. She seemed so small as she lay there, her little hand clenching and unclenching, caught in a dream. She wasn't his by blood, but every day he looked at her, from the moment he first lay eyes on the blue-eyes girl, his love for her grew. She would make a fine princess, and a good little sister to Vivian.

He'd gotten used to the baby sleeping in their bedchambers, even though it wasn't exactly conventional. Hunith had insisted on it, and had plainly refused to have a wet nurse. She was a stubborn one, his wife.

With a grin, he walked over to her. He opened his mouth to greet her, but she put a finger on her lips, silencing him. He frowned. Merlynn always slept deeply, so he wasn't exactly sure why his wife was cautioning him. She smiled and gestured to what he had thought was a pillow by her side.

The pillow-shaped hump had blonde hair sticking out of the top. Olaf carefully pulled back the blanket to see his daughter, Vivian, sleeping there, curled into Hunith's side.

"She was scared of the lightning," Hunith whispered, setting aside her book, "so I let her sleep here. I hope that's alright?"

Olaf was a little speechless. Vivian had never known her mother, and had never really bonded with her maid, so it was a surprise to see her sleeping so comfortably next to her step-mother. "Uh, yes, of course," he whispered in answer to Hunith's question.

"I think we should talk about her maid, Morna. Vivian told me she didn't like her, because she was mean. I think we should search for someone else…" Hunith suggested. She seemed so unsure, not yet comfortable in her role as wife and Queen, though it had been a year already.

"You are the Lady of this household, my love. If you feel that Morna isn't performing adequately, you can reassign her and find a different maid," he replied, getting in bed, careful not to jostle his daughter.

Hunith bit her lip and looked off towards Merlynn's crib. "What is it?" he asked. It was so clear to him that there was something else on her mind.

"I thought perhaps…" She kept her eyes on the crib. "I thought perhaps I could raise her myself, like Merlynn…"

Once again, Olaf was speechless. It wasn't done among nobles, let alone with one's step-child. But the gesture endeared her to him even further. It had been her kind heart and strong personality that had drew him to her in the first place.

"She asked me to be her mommy… I didn't know what to say, she seemed so lost and alone… I told her I'd be her new mother. It's now that I realize…" She finally looked at him, a troubled look in her eyes. "I don't want to replace her mother, it isn't right, I'm sure Rebecca would have been a wonderful mother, and I don't know if I can–"

Olaf interrupted her by taking her hands in his. "Rebecca… she would have been glad that someone cares as much as you do, and that you're here to look over her. I'm glad that you care about her," he said earnestly.

Hunith smiled, moved by his words. "I love you," she whispered.

He cherished the words. He knew that at the time of their wedding she had not loved him, but he believed that she had learned to over this past year. Hearing her say those words meant the world to him. "And I you, my love."

And really, that was all that mattered, was it not?

A/N: Review!